


Existentialism on Prom Night

by just_chiara



Series: Somewhere Between Broken and Happy [2]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Disability, Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e13 Bye, Feelings, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Friendship, Panic Attacks, Post-Episode: s02e13 Bye, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Slash, School Dances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_chiara/pseuds/just_chiara
Summary: Snippets of Zach and Alex on the night of the Spring Fling Dance in episode 2x13 "Bye": moments in between what we saw on the show, and speculation on what happens after that.





	Existentialism on Prom Night

**Author's Note:**

> Angst with a side of fluff. **Please check the tags for potentially triggering content.**
> 
> Credit for the title: Straylight Run's song "Existentialism on Prom Night"

He can’t find Jess.

She said she needed to use the bathroom and would be right back, but it’s been a while now and she’s still nowhere to be seen. Alex looks around, trying to spot her in the crowd of dancing teenagers. He sees Zach instead.

“Hey, have you seen Jess?” he asks his friend, talking loudly to be heard above the music.

“Not in a while,” Zach replies. He looks around as well and doesn’t tell him he hasn’t seen Justin in a while either.

Alex leans more heavily onto his cane. He’s getting tired, he should sit down and rest for a while, but he wants to find Jess first.

“We kissed,” he tells Zach.

“I told you you still had moves,” Zach smiles.

* * *

Zach hands him a drink, then sits down next to him. _Thunder_ by Imagine Dragons is playing and people are jumping up and down and dancing. Alex takes a sip at his drink. It’s too sweet but at least it’s cold. His gaze falls on Zach’s fingers, tapping on his knee in time with the music.

“You should go dance,” he tells him. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I don’t want to dance alone, and I don’t see anyone I want to dance with,” Zach shrugs.

He stays where he is. Alex is fine with that.

* * *

It’s not happening. It’s not happening. It’s not happening. It can’t be happening.

It’s happening.

Zach struggles to remember what they’re supposed to do. There was an acronym, but he can’t remember it. The school organized classes to train them on the best way to respond to an active shooter, but you never think it’s going to happen to you. It’s not supposed to happen to you.

He breathes once, twice.

_Alice_. [ALICE](https://www.alicetraining.com/about-us/) is the acronym. He can’t remember what the A and C stand for, but he’s pretty sure L is Lockdown, I is Inform and E is Evacuate.

“We have to stop him,” Clay is saying.

“No, we need to get the fuck out of here,” Zach counters, raising his voice to be heard. “We need to call the cops.”

He doesn’t know if they can get everyone out safely, he doesn’t know how much time they have, he doesn’t know if they can spread the word without causing a panic, but they have to at least try. What’s the alternative, anyway? Staying here and waiting to be shot? Most importantly: they need to call the police. They can’t handle it themselves. Haven’t they already proven that bad things happen when they don’t ask for help?

Clay disagrees with him, he wants to help Tyler, but Zach stands his ground: “His life is over either way! He’s either going to jail or he’s dead.”

“Tyler doesn’t wanna die, I know he doesn’t,” Alex says.

Zach is quite sure the question should be whether Tyler wants _anyone else_ to die, and the answer seems pretty obvious. He doesn’t want Tyler to die, of course, but, even more than that, he doesn’t want to get shot or see his friends killed.

Justin joins them, completely oblivious. He seems to realize right away that something’s wrong. “What’s going on guys?” he asks.

“Have you seen Jess?” Alex asks in return. Zach can see he’s worried, and that this is making him angry. Frustrated. At himself, mostly, for not being able to find her. Not being able to protect her.

“No,” Justin says. Zach can tell he's lying and he thinks so can Alex.

He hesitates and Clay takes charge: “Justin, find Jessica. Get everyone you can. Lock the doors, stay inside. And don’t call the police. I gotta find Tony.”

Clay quickly walks away to look for his friend, and they are left there standing in the middle of the dance floor.

“What the fuck? Clay!” Zach shouts after him to no avail.

“What the fuck is going on?” Justin demands to know. He looks at each of them questioningly. Each of them, except Alex, whose eyes he avoids.

None of them seems to find the words, so Mack simply puts her phone in Justin’s hands. He reads the text. He freezes when he understands what’s going on, but only for a second.

“I’ll find Jess,” he says before running towards the direction he came from. His voice is determined: he’s not going to let her down again. No way. He’s going to protect her this time.

Zach looks at Alex, who’s almost shaking. He knows it’s not because he’s afraid.

“We’ll spread the news. You guys do the same,” Cyrus announces, taking his sister’s hand.

* * *

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. It could be minutes, it could be hours. It feels like hours.

The doors are locked and tables have been pushed in front of most of them, the music has been turned off and the silence is suffocating. Every good hiding spot has been taken, and every bad one, too. The air is heavy with fear. Hundreds of eyes look around, noticing the door they locked but didn’t barricade, the windows that Tyler could shoot down to gain access, all the ways in which they are vulnerable. Exposed.

Alex is sitting on the floor behind one of the white couches, with Zach crouching down next to him.

If Tyler gets in, they’re sitting ducks, all of them.

Would he shoot them? Alex doesn’t think so. But still. _Still_.

“I can’t see Jess,” he whispers.

“That’s a good thing. It means she’s hiding, she’s safe.”

He wishes he could have gone looking for her. She was there with him, he was supposed to be the one who made sure she was okay, not fucking Justin. Now he’s stuck here. Even if he wanted to, even if it wasn’t dangerous, he couldn’t go look for her because he lost track of his cane when everyone started running around. It’s probably lying on the floor on the other side of the room, or maybe someone took it to use as a weapon. He’d still be in the middle of the dance floor if Zach hadn’t taken his arm and quickly dragged him to their current hiding spot.

They’re not supposed to talk, but he guesses it’s safe enough until they hear a door opening or a gun being shot. He keeps his voice as low as possible.

“What do you think is going on outside? Do you think Clay is there?” he asks.

Zach moves closer to him and speaks softly, with his lips close to Alex’s ear. “I don’t know. I hope… Fuck, I don’t know.”

Alex rests his good hand on Zach’s knee. Zach takes it in his and clutches it tight.

* * *

If Alex were religious, he’d pray right now.

Sometimes being an atheist really fucking sucks.

* * *

Sirens.

The police are coming. Someone must have called them.

Zach and Alex are still holding their breath and listening for gunshots. They’re still holding hands, too.

“Shit,” Alex whispers. His dad is probably in one of the police cars speeding through the streets to get to the high school. What if he’s the first one there? What if he gets out of the car? What if Tyler starts shooting?

He feels an anxiety attack coming on and squeezes his eyes shut. He breathes slowly and focuses on the reassuring hand holding his, trying to get it under control.

“It’s going to be okay,” Zach breathes into his ear.

* * *

They hear a car. The sirens are still far away, so it’s probably not the police. It stops. Voices. From inside, they can’t hear what they’re saying. A car door slams shut, then tires squeal on the asphalt as the car accelerates and drives away. It’s _definitely_ not the police. More voices. Then silence, except for the sirens approaching.

Zach and Alex share a look. _What the fuck is going on outside?_

Everyone around them seems to be wondering the same thing.

They don’t move. They don’t talk. They almost hold their breath. Zach slides an arm around Alex’s waist so he can pull him to his feet quickly if they need to run.

Alex shakes his head no. “Don’t. I’d slow you down. If it comes to it, you run and leave me here,” he mouths.

Zach’s reply is just as silent: “No way.”

* * *

The floor is covered in plastic cups and is sticky from the sugary drinks the students dropped on it. Alex’s legs are shaking. He holds tight onto Zach’s arm for support and realizes his friend’s hands are shaking, too. They still, somehow, walk towards the exit.

It’s loud outside. The world is a swirl of red and blue from the flashing emergency lights of the police cars parked all around the street. They welcome the fresh air into their lungs. Almost everyone else is already outside: standing in small groups, sitting down on the curb, calling friends and families, talking to the police, crying, hugging, trying to make sense of what just happened. Of what almost happened.

Halfway down the stairs, Alex’s legs give out. Zach doesn’t let him fall but doesn’t have it in him to hold him up either. He helps him sit down on the steps and sits down, too. Tears start falling down his face. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. Alex rests his head on his shoulder and closes his eyes.

* * *

“Are you okay, buddy?”

His dad’s voice pulls Alex back to reality. Mr. Standall is kneeling in front of them with a worried look on his face. Alex sits up straighter, no longer leaning on Zach’s shoulder, and nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Zach?” Mr. Standall asks.

“I’m fine,” Zach mutters.

“What happened, Dad?” Alex asks. “Was anyone hurt?”

Mr. Standall pats his son’s knee. “No, everyone is okay.”

Alex doesn’t ask after Tyler because he hopes the police don’t have his name. Despite everything, he still wants to protect him.

“Have you seen Jess? I couldn’t find her,” he says. He suddenly realizes he should have looked for her the moment they stepped outside. But he feels like he’s moving – existing, really – at a different speed than the rest of the world right now.

“Jessica is fine. I talked to her a few minutes ago,” his father reassures him. “She’s with your friends, Clay Jensen and Justin Foley. We’re taking them to the station: we think they may know something.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further and Alex doesn’t ask any questions.

Mr. Standall has a serious look on his face when he asks: “Alex, do _you_ know anything? If you do, you need to tell me right now. You too, Zach,” he says. “It doesn’t need to go on the record, I can keep your names out of this. I can protect you both.”

He wouldn’t do it for any other friends of Alex’s, but Zach… Zach is different.

Mr. Standall remembers seeing him at the hospital last summer: he was there to pick up his wife after her shift and recognized the tall teenager with cuts on his face and his arm in a sling as one of his son’s friends. He saw him pick up his sobbing younger sister with his one good arm and whisper in her ear while she cried hysterically. He saw him breaking down himself once he was alone. He saw him sitting by Alex’s bedside in the same hospital not even six months later: he came almost every day, both when Alex was still in a coma and once he’d woken up. He came back after Alex took out his frustration on him and shouted horrible things at him, and when Alex told him he didn’t want to be his pity project. He told Alex over and over that he could walk again if he was ready to work for it, believing in him when even Mr. Standall himself and his wife couldn’t anymore. He helped Alex with physical therapy, encouraged him, cheered him on. He pushed Alex to celebrate every victory along the way to recovery and supported him through every defeat.

So, yes, Zach Dempsey _absolutely_ deserves special treatment.

He looks at both boys. They shake their heads no.

“We don’t know anything, Dad,” Alex says.

* * *

They all stand and move in pairs or small groups, no one wants to be alone right now even though it’s all over. Even though nothing really happened. Maybe that’s why they are all still on edge, because they’re still waiting for it to happen.

They’re safe.

They don’t feel safe.

* * *

A few of their friends come over to check in on them.

Caleb, Ryan and his date. Caleb asks if they’ve seen Tony or heard from him. They haven’t.

Courtney and Kimiko. Courtney hugs them and tells them she’s spoken with the police and not to worry because everything is alright. If her make-up wasn’t running, you could almost believe she wasn’t scared.

Scott and some of the guys from the baseball team. They repeatedly pat Zach on the shoulder and act tough.

Sheri and her date. She crouches down in front of them and holds their hands for a few moments. No words needed.

Their Biology teacher, who was chaperoning the dance, also seems to remember, at some point, that one of his students has impaired walking ability and might have needed help to hide or to evacuate the building. “Good, good,” he says, upon finding him with Zach. “I knew one of your friends would help you.”

Alex wants to ask him how he could have known for sure. He doesn’t.

* * *

They text Clay, Jess, Tony and Justin to ask if they’re okay. (Of course they’re _not_ okay. How could any of them be okay?)

They’d like to ask them what happened, too, but they don’t. There’s going to be an investigation. Their texts may become evidence. They’ve learned their lesson.

* * *

After the police have taken everyone’s names and checked everyone for weapons, they let their parents take them home.

Alex knows his dad will be at the police station all night, and his mom is on shift at the hospital and can’t leave, not with the higher than usual influx of patients. While there haven’t been any major injuries, some students suffered minor ones due to chaos and panic and have been brought to the ER.

He and Zach are still sitting close together on the stairs. They’re not talking.

They’re exhausted.

When they see Zach’s mom walk briskly towards them, Zach turns to look at Alex. “You’re sleeping over at my house tonight,” he says.

Alex didn’t tell him his parents would be working all night. Zach knew it anyway and is not leaving him alone.

* * *

Karen Dempsey cups her son’s face with both hands. “You’re okay,” she says. She doesn’t _ask_ if he is, she _tells_ him.

Zach nods. “Yeah, Mom, I’m okay.”

“This school is a joke. They’ve proven again and again that they cannot keep you safe and now this? I’ll talk to the other parents, we have to do something, we have to…”

He cuts her off, gently. “Mom? Mom, can we just go home? Nothing happened. I’m safe. Can we just go home?”

She rubs his arm for a moment, then breaks physical contact. She nods, “Yes, let’s take you home.”

“I told Alex he could sleep over tonight. His parents are working extra time because of what happened,” he says. He’s learned to tell rather than ask.

She sighs. She wants to say no, but she is too tired and worried to find a good excuse. She doesn’t say yes, but she doesn’t say no either. She simply says, “Let’s go.”

* * *

They stop at Alex’s house. Zach grabs him a change of clothes and his phone charger from the bedroom, while Alex stands in the bathroom leaning onto the sink and looks at all the bottles inside the medicine cabinet to sort out his pills for the next 24 hours. He also takes the whole bottle of Ativan, just in case.

“Ready?” Zach asks, standing in the doorway with Alex’s backpack on his right shoulder.

“Ready.”

* * *

He’s in Zach’s bedroom, but a part of him is still at the dance, still inside the gym, still hiding behind a couch hoping not to hear gunshots. The air still feels too dense, like it’s liquid. His lungs are heavy with it.

It’s hard to breathe.

The events of the past few hours crash into him like a tornado.

Through blurred eyes, he sees the room spin. His hand shakes as he reaches blindly for something to hold on to. He finds only the smooth surface of the closet. He slides down onto the floor: it’s solid and cool under him and somehow comforting. He closes his eyes. He wants to call for Zach, but his throat is too dry, he can’t get any sound out.

His heart is beating furiously. Fast. Too fast.

He can’t breathe.

* * *

Zach drops down on the floor next to him and takes his hand. That’s the first thing he does when he walks into the bedroom and sees him.

“You’re not alone,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say.

He rubs Alex’s shoulder, hoping to comfort him, to help him through it.

Slowly, slowly, Alex’s eyes focus on his. Zach holds the eye contact and grips his hand tighter. “Keep breathing,” he whispers. He says it to Alex, and maybe to himself, too.

* * *

They’re both sitting on the floor of Zach’s bedroom with their backs against the closet. Alex’s right hand is on Zach’s knee, holding on to it like he’ll drown if he lets go. Zach’s left hand is resting on Alex’s arm. He moves his thumb in soothing circles.

Alex feels like he can breathe again, and his heart is slowing down. He can no longer feel it pumping in his ears. His eyes are closed, but he knows he’d see clearly if he opened them. Exhaustion is settling in: he doesn’t think he can get up. He rests his head on Zach’s shoulder.

He’s okay.

They’re okay.

* * *

“Wanna get up?”

“Not yet.”

Zach wraps his arm around Alex’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

* * *

He laughs when he sees the t-shirt Zach packed for him. It’s an old one, with a faded drawing of Peter Pan on the front, which Alex is pretty sure was at the very back of the bottom drawer of his dresser.

He puts it on and looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. He shakes his head, smiling.

“Did you go through my whole closet to find this?” he asks as soon as he’s back in Zach’s room and the door is closed.

Zach shrugs and doesn’t answer.

“Let’s never grow up,” he says instead.

“Totally,” Alex says, even though he knows it’s too late for both of them.

* * *

**Justin** texts Zach.  
  
Justin: We're okay. We're home now.  
Justin: Let’s talk tomorrow. Monet’s, 11am?  
Zach: See you there  
  


* * *

Zach sneaks into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of orange juice, a chocolate bar, a box of cereal and a couple of hastily thrown-together ham and cheese sandwiches. His mom has a No Food in the Bedrooms rule, but tonight he doesn’t care.

Alex says his stomach is still in knots and he can’t eat. He drinks small sips of orange juice and lets the chocolate melt into his mouth while Zach devours everything else.

Later, they lie down on the bed on top of the blankets and talk in urgent whispers about the dance. Zach doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Alex reaches out and wipes his tears with his thumb.

“Sorry,” he says and wants to stop, but he can’t. He cries quietly while Alex rubs his arm.

* * *

They share a pair of earbuds and listen to music. To calm down, to stop thinking, to forget the whole night happened.

They lie next to each other, even closer than they normally would. At some point Zach’s arm finds his way around Alex’s waist and settles there. It’s comforting. It makes them feel grounded.

* * *

It’s almost dawn when they go to sleep.

Zach helps Alex walk to the guest room. He stands in front of him and catches himself staring at Alex’s lips. He leans in. He hugs him. The angular shapes of Alex’s skinny body fit comfortably against Zach’s more muscular frame.0

They are good for each other because they are different.

In the past few months, Alex’s sharp sarcasm has cut through Zach’s defenses. Zach’s kindness has smoothed down the rage inside Alex.

They fall apart in different ways, at different times.

They need each other, and they see each other, and they chose each other.

* * *

Alex lies awake in a bed that’s not his own.

Exhaustion will get the better of him soon, but not yet.

Not yet.

* * *

Zach curls up under the blankets and hugs the pillow to his chest.

* * *

Alex texts Zach.  
  
Alex: I thought about it  
Alex: I’m moving to Neverland  
Alex: Come with me?  
Zach: You bet  
  


* * *

They fall asleep as the world starts waking up.

It’s a new day. They’ll get through this one, too. Together.


End file.
